


She Was There

by emn1936



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emn1936/pseuds/emn1936
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She felt his hand grope for hers as they awaited the conclusion of the tribunal. Twisting her hand, she pressed her palm to his, threading their fingers together as the verdict of a life sentence at a maximum security penal settlement was read</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Three-quarters of the way through a quiet duty shift, Nyota Uhura was making steady progress reviewing her staff’s weekly reports when the familiar high-pitched whistle of the ship’s intercom interrupted her. She glanced at her board and noted the captain’s identification number displayed on the screen.

“Kirk to bridge.” The captain’s deep voice sounded in her earpiece.

“Go ahead, Captain.”

“Uhura, I need your assistance on a project. Please arrange for your relief to report to your station an hour early and then stop by so that we can discuss it.”

“Aye, sir,” she responded crisply. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Good. Kirk out.”

Uhura spun in her seat to find Spock turned toward her from his perch in the command chair, a questioning look on his face. The captain had left the bridge halfway through his shift the previous day and earlier this morning had notified his First Officer that he would again be working from his quarters.

Spock rose and moved to her side.

“The captain’s behavior has been most illogical in recent days,” he commented in a low tone.

Uhura couldn’t help but smile.

“By your standards, the captain’s behavior could often be considered ‘most illogical’.”

Spock absorbed her amused jab with a raised brow.  “You make an excellent point, Lieutenant.”

Bracing a hand against the edge of her console, he leaned closer.

“And yet, I stand by my convictions. Did the captain consult with you before he transferred Riley from communications back to engineering?”

She shook her head.

“Abruptly leaving his post midway through a shift yesterday.  Failing to report for duty today.” Spock continued to tick off their captain’s puzzling actions of the last few days.

Uhura responded to the concern reflected in the Vulcan’s eyes with a shrug and a tiny shake of her head.

 _I guess we’ll know soon enough_ , she thought.

*****  

An hour later, Uhura strode through the gleaming corridors of the ship toward the captain’s quarters. She signaled her arrival and the door hissed open immediately. Stepping inside, she found the captain seated at the small desk in one corner furiously scribbling notes by hand onto his datapad. 

“Reporting as ordered, Captain.”

Kirk looked up from his work.

“Thanks for coming. Have a seat.” He waved a hand vaguely toward the lone chair facing his desk.

Uhura lifted a gold command tunic from the seat and he sighed, reaching across the desk to take it from her.

“Sorry about that.” He slung the shirt over the back of his chair. “Give me a minute to finish this thought.” He picked up the stylus again.

While Kirk concentrated on his work, Uhura took a moment to study him closely. His hair was mussed, the thick strands standing straight up as if he had been shoving his fingers through it repeatedly. The normally vivid blue of his eyes was dulled, the whites bloodshot and rimmed with red and the usually healthy glow of his skin was pallid and tinged with grey. The long sleeves of his black undershirt were pushed up to his elbows and the wrinkled fabric of his clothing seemed to indicate that he was still wearing yesterday’s uniform.

Though his overall disheveled appearance set off silent alarm bells in her head, she schooled her features into an impassive mask and waited patiently for him to finish his task.

At last he set aside the stylus in his hand and focused his attention on her.

“How can I help you, sir?” she asked.

Kirk leaned back in his chair and let out a tired sigh.

“I…” He hesitated, lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I have reason to believe that one of our passengers is not who he claims to be.”

Uhura thought immediately of the troupe of actors being ferried by the _Enterprise_ and a look of surprise flashed over her face. A wave of excitement had rippled through the crew with the arrival of the Karidian Company aboard ship. Rumors of a performance by way of a thank you to the crew had been bandied about but in the days the actors had been aboard, there had been little in the way of interaction between them and the crew. Though the troupe had been comfortably housed in guest and empty crew quarters, there had been no planned social events between them and the _Enterprise_ ’s crew.

Looking now at the taut expression on Kirk’s face, Uhura realized that the captain’s odd behavior had begun shortly after the arrival of their passengers.

 “I am almost certain that a DNA analysis will prove that I am correct,” Kirk continued. “But I need cause… I need some kind of immutable evidence to present to Command. I need some kind of proof before I move forward to request a DNA test. And that’s where you come in, Lieutenant.

“Of course, Captain. How can I help?”

“I’ve run a voice comparison study already. The computer’s analysis indicates with a nearly 100% certainty that this man is who I believe him to be. But before I move forward… before I make this kind of accusation against anyone, I need your expertise.”

He leaned forward, urgency communicated to her in the taut lines of his face and shoulders.

“I need your ear, Nyota,” he pleaded. “I trust your experience, your opinion, over any computer program.”

Uhura felt her pulse leap at the naked sincerity of his words.

“If you tell me that I’m crazy, that I’m imagining things, then I’ll… I’ll…” He laid a hand over his eyes for a moment, battling for control.  Composed again, he lifted his gaze to hers.

“If you tell me I’m wrong, I’ll let it go.”

“Of course, Captain,” she murmured. “Whatever you need.”

His chin jerked in a terse nod of thanks.

“I’ve sent the files for comparison to your personal account.” He inhaled, then blew the air back out in a long, steadying stream.

“This is to be your number one priority,” he told her. “If you need someone to cover your next shift –”

“I’ll get started on it right away,” she promised. “I have time tonight.”

“If you have other plans…” he began in a half-hearted attempt not to be overbearing.

She smiled gently.

“This is clearly important to you, Captain. So it’s important to me. I had no plans that can’t wait.”

“Thanks.” Appreciation shone in his eyes. “Report back to me as soon as you are comfortable that you’ve reached a clear conclusion.”

His gaze sharpened, boring with laser-like intensity into her own.

“I don’t care what time it is. Day or night,” he said emphatically. “The files have been password protected.” He rattled off the code.

He settled back into his chair with a tired smile.

“Thanks, Uhura.”

Realizing that she had been effectively dismissed, she rose to her feet and turned to leave. As she reached the door, she glanced back. His weariness was evident in the slumping of his shoulders, one hand raised to the back of his neck, fingers kneading the knots of tension gathered there.

She hesitated, leaned against the door, hands folded behind her back, fingertips pressed into the cool surface of the door.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Kirk raised his head and waved a permissive hand through the air.

“Of course.”

“I found you equal parts annoying and amusing when we first met,” she told him bluntly and he blinked, startled by the personal turn the conversation had taken.

“Oookay,” he responded cautiously. “And now?”

“I’ve seen you at your most vulnerable.”

She paused, thinking of the long days she and the others had spent at his bedside, willing him to awaken from the two week coma after he had all but given up his life for them in that warp core. She remembered reading to him when his eyesight had been too weak to focus on the words, nagging him through months of physical therapy, berating him to eat; her sassy brand of humor encouraging him when his spirits were low and he thought he would never make it all the way back.

“Yes,” he agreed gravely. “You have.”

“And you have seen me at mine,” she said as she remembered that period of time when she and Spock had come to the realization that long term they were likely more suited as the best of friends rather than lifelong mates. She had been surprised to find Kirk’s shoulder a place of comfort and peace. He had been a friendly ear; a steady confidante – by turns an amusing and bolstering presence in her life.

“I have.”

“So, I think that qualifies us as friends.”

He nodded solemnly. “I count you among my best, Nyota.”

“Good.” Her head bobbed emphatically. “Because as your friend, Jim, I have to tell you that you look like hell.”

A startled laugh escaped him at her candid assessment and she graced him with a fond smile in response.

“So when I’ve finished this assignment, I’m coming back here to give you my report and then you and I are going to talk about why this is so personal for you.”

Kirk swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and she saw expressions of fear and relief flash over his face.

“When was the last time you slept, Jim?” she asked pointedly.

“I don’t know,” he rasped hoarsely.

“While you’re waiting to hear from me, clean up, eat something. Try to get some sleep,” she urged.

He cleared his throat, touched by her concern.

“You better get going,” he said gruffly.

“Aye, Captain.” She gave him a pert smile and, ponytail flying as she whirled about, hurried out.


	2. Chapter 2

Upon arriving in her own quarters, Nyota quickly changed into loose-fitting pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Bundling her hair atop her head in messy knot, she grabbed her personal datapad and settled into a comfortable chair with a mug of hot, sweet tea.

Searching her mail, she quickly found the captain’s message and tapped it open. Using the code he had provided, she clicked open the first file.

_I am a very foolish fond old man,_  
fourscore and upward, not an hour more or less;  
and, to deal plainly,  
I fear I am not in my perfect mind. 

Shakespeare? she wondered. Specifically _King Lear_ , if she was not mistaken. Accessing the computer, she delved deeper, verifying the source of the quote and the speaker as Anton Karidian.

Curiosity peaked, she tapped open the next file. Again, the same sonorous voice sounded.

_The revolution is successful, but survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore, I have no alternative but to sentence you to death. Your execution is so ordered._

A chill crept along her spine as the words tickled a memory.

“Computer,” she called out. “Review last quote. Cross reference with any historical files.”

_Working_. _Quote allegedly attributed to Kodos, former Governor of the colony Tarsus IV. Also known as Kodos the Executioner._

“Stop,” Uhura ordered, nerves jumping.

“Computer. Background – Kodos, Governor of Tarsus IV.”

_Working. Kodos, Governor of Tarsus IV fourteen Earth years ago. Systemic crop failure caused planet-wide famine. Governor Kodos ordered the execution of half the colony’s population to ensure the survival of the others._

“Stop.” Uhura wiped a hand over her face as bile churned in her stomach. She took a hasty sip of her tea.

“Computer. Verify whereabouts of Kodos today.”

_Kodos is believed to be deceased. Burned body found when Earth forces arrived at colony. No positive identification made. Case closed._

“Provide background information on Anton Karidian.”

_Working. Karidian, Anton, founder and director of Karidian Company, a traveling company of actors._

“Stop. Provide information on Karidian fourteen years ago.”

_No information exists on Karidian, Anton prior to fourteen years ago._

Uhura laid a trembling hand over her stomach. My God, she thought. Without even listening to the rest of the files he had provided, she understood the captain believed Anton Karidian and Kodos the Executioner to be one and the same man.

Was it possible? Could Kodos, a man believed to be dead for fourteen years – one of the most reviled men in history – have been living in plain sight all this time? If so, she marveled at the audacity of his having lived in so public a way for so many years.  

Rising from the cushioned chair, she moved to the small desk built into one corner of her quarters. Booting up the terminal at her personal workstation, she got to work.

***************

Bleary-eyed, Nyota leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms high over her head, wincing with relief as the vertebrae of her spine clicked back into place.  She had begun with the tangible – allowing the computer to run a spectrogram over the voice files the captain had provided, generating a comparison of the psycholinguistic features of the sample audio files including the pitch, the mean frequency and trajectory of the formation of the vowels along with the distribution of the formant energy and other idiosyncratic features. The data quickly led to what she was sure was the same conclusion reached by the captain when he ran a similar study – that Karidian and Kodos were one and the same person.

Unwilling to rely on so few small voice samples, she found additional audio files – soliloquies from various performances by the Karidian Company over the years as well as speeches and interviews given by Kodos in the years leading up to his appointment as governor of Tarsus IV, including one file recorded only months before the outbreak of the famine.

Each time the same conclusion was reached, and though she would have comfortably submitted a report stating that Anton Karidian _was_ Kodos based solely on the data provided by her study of the spectrogram, she knew that alone was not what the captain needed from her.

And so she had continued on long into the night. Pulling a pair of headphones over her head, she dimmed the lights, blocking out everything but the sounds of the voices in her ears.  Eyes closed, she compared the resonance of the two voices, the pitch, the inflection, the articulation.

Karidian spoke in the rolling, flowing classical tones which had become the hallmark of Shakespearean actors throughout the ages. The hundreds year old dialogue tripped off his tongue with a rhythmic musicality at stark odds to the clipped, militaristic cadence of Kodos’ manner of speaking. To the average listener the two men could not have sounded more different.

But Uhura, who had a love of the spoken word in all forms and languages, heard the aural cues that others would not. The peculiar speech characteristics that even the melodic tempo of Shakespeare’s words could not disguise. The commonality of the breath patterns of the two men, the pitch, the grouping of the syllables, the peculiar emphasis given to certain words.

Hours later, any doubts she had held - any hopes she had entertained that the captain was mistaken – were put to rest.  The _Enterprise_ was harboring the man responsible for the deaths of thousands of colonists on Tarsus IV.

Saving her work, she laid her head on the top of her desk, enjoying the feel of the cool surface against her flushed cheek. Rising to her feet, she willed her legs to stop shaking.  She toggled a switch and drew in a deep breath, forcing a note of calm she didn’t feel into her voice.

“Uhura to Captain Kirk.”

“Go ahead, Uhura.”

“I know it’s late, sir, but you said…”

She heard the long exhalation of breath over the open channel and then Kirk’s quiet voice.

“It’s okay, Lieutenant. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to come here and tell me what you’ve found.”

“Aye, sir. On my way.”

Not wanting to be bothered slipping back into her duty uniform at 0200 hours, Uhura snatched a long sweater from the back of a chair and jammed her arms through the sleeves. Clutching it closed over her midsection, she slipped into the quiet corridor and made her way to the captain’s quarters.

The door slid open before she had a chance to announce her arrival and she stepped inside the dimly lit room.  She studied him for a long moment and noted that he had taken some of her advice as evidenced by his damp hair and more comfortable attire. But he was still seated behind his desk, his face bathed in the glowing light of the screen he was squinting toward.

“Trying to catch up on some work,” he said with a sheepish nod at a precariously teetering tower of PADDs. Pushing them off to one side, he looked up at her expectantly.

“Well?”

“I’ll prepare a formal report for you later,” she promised. “But I didn’t want to keep you waiting…”

She hesitated, swallowing hard as the words seemed to lodge in her throat.

“Kodos is on my ship, isn’t he?”

“Yes, sir, I’m afraid he is.”

He ran a hand over his face, his bristled jaw making a loud, rasping sound against his palm in the otherwise quiet room.

“Sonovabitch!”

His arm lashed out, sweeping the stack of PADDs from the desk with violent force. Though Uhura flinched at the sudden display of rage, she stood her ground.

Kirk looked up, his eyes gleaming with a sheen of tears – or perhaps simply hatred of the man in question.

“You were supposed to tell me I was imagining things.” He leaned his head against the high-backed chair and kneaded his eye with one fist.

“I don’t like to be wrong.” He opened his eyes and flashed a sardonic smile. “But I was hoping you were going to tell me that I was in this instance, Nyota.”

Uhura relaxed and, moving closer, leaned a hip against the space on his desk created by his violent housekeeping.

“And you know I like nothing more than to prove you wrong.” Her words were teasing though her face remained serious. “I wish I could have done so this time.”

“Yeah.” He propped an elbow on the armrest of his chair and looked up at her, his temple resting against a loosely clenched fist.

They stared at one another for a long moment.

“You should get some sleep.” He waved his free hand in the air.

“What are you going to do now?”

His laugh was a quiet, bitter sound.

“Start dealing with it, I guess.  Computer,” he called out. “Give me the whereabouts of Kod –”

He cut himself off with an irritated grunt.

“Give me the whereabouts of Anton Karidian,” he gritted out.

_Anton Karidian is located in Deck Two guest quarters.”_

He exhaled slowly.

“Where did you think he’d be?” Uhura wondered.

 “I don’t know,” he sighed, thinking privately that Kodos was his own personal bogeyman.

“I guess there’s really nowhere for him to go,” he mused, and then as if doubting his own words, he contacted Security and made arrangements for Kodos’ quarters to be kept under video surveillance.

He looked up and met her knowing gaze.

“Now the real fun begins.” He rubbed the tips of his fingers across his aching forehead.

“Sir?”

“Now I have to convince Starfleet that the _Enterprise_ is harboring a mass murderer.”

She winced sympathetically as she considered the enormity of that task.

“How is it that they never did a DNA analysis on the body believed to be Kodos’ all those years ago?” she wondered.

Kirk shrugged, his eyes fixed on a distant point across the room as he relived the confusion and pandemonium that had engulfed the colony.

“I don’t know, Uhura,” he sighed. “I just don’t know.”

Arching his back against his chair, he stretched his arms over his head.

“It’s late.” He glanced at the time. “You should get some sleep and then I’m going to need that report from you before I contact Starfleet.”

“Do you want me to be there when you make the call?”

He shook his head. “Not right away. But, uh… yeah.  I’m sure they’re going to speak with you.” He looked up at her with a wry smile. “More than once, I would imagine.”

Her face contorted in a faint grimace at the thought of another debriefing by the brass.

“Go on.” He flicked his fingers dismissively. “I appreciate your help, Uhura, but go to bed. Get some sleep.”

Uhura nodded and moved toward the door. She had only taken a few steps when she stopped. Turning back to face him, she caught the edges of her sweater in her hands.  She opened her mouth, hesitated. Wrapping her arms protectively around her middle, she took a deep breath.

“Were you there?”

Brows raised, he gave her a curious look. “You didn’t check?”

“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “It seemed too cold – finding out by doing a computer search on you. I’d like you to tell me… if you want to.”

His gaze locked with hers for a long moment and she held herself rigidly while awaiting his response.

“I was there.” His words punctured the tense silence.

Though she had already known the answer, a tremor ran along her spine and she pressed the palm of her hand against her mouth to muffle any sound.

Moved by the emotions playing unchecked across her beautiful face, he smiled kindly and rose. Crossing to her, he laid the fingertips of one hand against the small of her back and led her to a small sofa tucked along the far wall of the room and drew her down onto the cushioned seat.

“It’s okay.” He perched on the edge of seat beside her and spoke in a soothing tone. “It was a long time ago.”

“You… you couldn’t have been more than, what? Thirteen?”

“I was twelve when I got to the colony and I lived there for a little more than a year before… before –” 

He waved a hand about in an impotent gesture meant to wordlessly convey the horror that had befallen the colony.

“But why were you… where was your family?” She wracked her brain for information on his family and knew his mother was retired from active duty and that he had a brother who was a research biologist and was married with at least one child.

He leaned into the cushioned back of the sofa with a tired sigh.

“While my brother and I were very young my mother was stationed at the Riverside Shipyard as an engineer,” he began. “She remarried when I was about eight and started taking occasional trips off planet for her job – usually for short periods – a couple of weeks at a time. Maybe a month.”

He rested his head against the cushion and closed his eyes.

“Sam and our stepfather always butted heads but while Mom was home, it wasn’t too bad.  But then Sam was a teenager and my mother was away more and more and he and Frank just didn’t get along at all. They were constantly at one another’s throat and then one day Sam decided he’d had enough and he left home.”

“I felt abandoned – by Sam, by my mother – by everyone – and then I started acting out.” He opened his eyes. Staring at the ceiling he was transported back in time. He could almost hear the roar of the antique car’s engine, feel its powerful vibrations and remembered the combined sensations of freedom and terror as the car flew over the edge of the ravine... And then he remembered the devastated look on his mother’s face when his stepfather had commed her.

“When my mother received orders that would send her off planet for the better part of a year, it was pretty clear that leaving me alone with my stepfather all that time would be a bad deal for everyone involved.”

He rolled his head toward her. 

“There was a cousin – on my father’s side of family – living on Tarsus IV with his wife and kids. I didn’t know them but I was bored in Iowa and always had an itch to travel in space and that was my first chance so I jumped at the chance to go.”

He let out a cynical laugh. 

“And _that_ as they say was that.”

Nyota shifted, pulling her legs up onto the cushioned seat. Wrapping her arms around her calves, she rested her chin on her knees and studied him carefully.

She had so many questions.  Everyone knew the history of the Tarsus IV massacre. That Kodos had divided the colonists and ordered the deaths of half to ensure the survival of those he deemed fittest. Which list had the captain been on? And what of his cousin and his family?

“Were you –”  No, she could not bring herself to ask.

“How is it that this has never come out?” she asked instead. “I mean, you’ve been on the press’s radar from the moment of your birth and you’ve been the media darling of Starfleet in recent years,” she said, thinking of the multitude of interviews and articles written about him after the _Narada_ , after his meteoric rise through the ranks and after the events in San Francisco.

“How has the press never gotten wind of this story?”

“There was so much confusion – so many stories, I don’t think they knew where to look first. And I was pretty sick,” he admitted. “I spent a lot of time on a medical transport ship and then weeks recovering in the hospital.  I’m sure my name is on the list of survivors but at the time Starfleet did make some effort to protect the survivors from the press and the information is not readily available in my records.  You’d have to be specifically looking for it to make the connection and no one ever has.”

He paused, gave her a helpless look. Plowing his fingers through his hair, he gave a tiny shake of his head and pressed his lips together to cut off an angry torrent of words.

Uhura squeezed her eyes closed as if to block out the harrowing images playing in her mind’s eye of a young Kirk, ill from the effects of malnutrition and living through the nightmarish aftermath of the slaughter which had taken place on the colony. She bristled at the knowledge that he’d now have to relive it all under the harsh and unrelenting glare of the media spotlight.

Shifting onto her knees she edged closer, pressed her lips in a lingering benediction against the muscle ticking madly in his rigid jaw. Nestled against his side, she wrapped her hands around one tightly bunched bicep and with a sigh, rested her cheek against his shoulder.


	3. Three

She was there – curled up beside him throughout the remainder of the night, listening when he needed to talk and falling into a fitful sleep when he was quiet. She slipped away in the early morning hours, returning to her quarters to assemble her notes into a concise and coherent report. Showering and changing into a duty uniform, she contacted the captain, bullying an agreement from him to meet her in the officer’s mess for breakfast.

She was there later that morning, hovering nearby when he summoned McCoy and Spock to his quarters. Folding her arms tightly around her middle, she stood in a corner and watched the two men react. Spock’s hands clenched into fists at his sides and his dark eyes – usually the most overtly expressive and human part of him – went flat and black with tightly controlled rage.

In contrast, the doctor’s habitual scowl fell away as a spasm of anguish crossed his craggy features. Closing the distance between them, he curved one hand over the back of the captain’s neck and lowering his head, murmured quiet reassurance to his friend.

She was there – waiting with Spock and McCoy in the hall outside the captain’s quarters as he contacted Starfleet. Prowling about in a tight circle, her anxiety was evident in each quick and precise step taken. Spock stood quietly – a graven statue near the entrance to the captain’s quarters – and McCoy’s face bore its familiar glower as he stared daggers at the door as if offended by the barrier it created between him and his friend.

Relief outweighed nerves as she was finally summoned to speak to the assembled brass. Taking a position behind the captain’s shoulder, she was a bolstering presence. Lending her voice and expertise, she explained in detail the data she had compiled and the conclusions she had reached in support of the captain’s own findings.

And she was there – again with Spock and McCoy – forming a wall of support behind the captain as he entered Kodos’ quarters flanked on either side by his security chief and another member of his team. She listened as the captain explained the charges being leveled against the former governor, noted the resigned look on the older man’s face as he extended an arm to McCoy so that blood could be drawn to complete a DNA profile while Kirk ordered him restricted to quarters until such time as they reached the nearest star base from where he would be transported back to Earth to face a tribunal.

Uhura watched, first with curiosity, as Kodos’ daughter pled with the captain, tears swimming in her stunned blue eyes as she tried to explain that surely he was mistaken; that he had the wrong man. Her father was not a monster, not a man capable of the crimes they described. Curiosity changed to disgust as Lenore shifted from damsel-in-distress to seductress, breasts pressed against the captain’s arm, fingers trailing over his gold shirt, beseeching him in breathy-voiced entreaty.

When the captain stepped back, awkwardly brushing off the young woman’s unwelcome advances, Uhura felt disgust give way to simmering anger as Kirk’s head snapped back from the force of Lenore’s open palm cracking across his cheek and the seductress disappeared into a wild-eyed hellion. Spitting with rage, she hurled biting invectives at the captain. Leaping forward, hands curled into talons, she raked her nails across his face. Ducking and twisting, she eluded security and lurched toward the captain again only to find her path blocked.

Eyes flashing, Uhura wrapped a hand around the younger woman’s wrist in an iron grip.

“Don’t.” The warning was issued with low-voiced fury.

“Lenore, please.”

Face crumpling at the sound of her father’s quiet entreaty, Lenore tore free from Uhura and hurled herself into his arms. Weeping hysterically, she begged him to explain that they were mistaken, pleaded with him not to allow them to take him from her. Spinning away, she collapsed on the floor and everyone watched in horror as she threw her arms around the captain’s boots, her pleas growing increasingly manic and frenzied.

Kirk tore his shell-shocked gaze away from the sobbing woman at his feet and turned desperate eyes towards the others. McCoy dug a hypo from his kit and stepped forward. Administering the drug with gentle hands, he waited a moment for the sedative to take effect, and then nodded to security.

“Take her to sickbay,” he instructed and Uhura watched now with compassion as the quietly sobbing girl was led unresisting from the room.

A movement beside her caught her eye and she saw the captain wipe a shaking hand over his face. Squaring his shoulders with deliberation, he left the room without a backward glance, flanked by Spock and the doctor. Following them, she looked over her shoulder. Ruthlessly quelling the rising sense of pity, she called up a mental image of a sick and emaciated young Jim Kirk to block out the sight of the stoop-shouldered old man weeping quietly into his hands.

*******                 

She was there at the tribunal as an expert witness, again explaining in laymen’s terms the methods she had used to compare the voiceprints – the science as well as her own experience and innate talent.

“Lieutenant, please tell the court the conclusion you reached.”

“All data and information leads to only one possible conclusion. The man posing as Anton Karidian for the last fourteen years is, without a doubt, the former Kodos, governor of Tarsus IV.”

“And you have no doubts?”

She glanced across the room. Kodos sat at the defense table alone, with only his legal representative for company. There was no family, no friends seated nearby. The Karidian players had disbanded, his fellow actors abandoning him when they realized who they had been keeping company with all those years. His only living relative had suffered a psychotic break and was being treated at a hospital where she muttered and laughed, incessantly plotting in manic detail the deaths of the survivors of the Tarsus massacre who could identify her father.

“Lieutenant?” the prosecutor prodded, and Uhura shook off any thoughts of Lenore suffering in her madness and focused on the father instead.

“No, sir. I am one hundred percent certain of my conclusions.” Confidence rang in her tone and the proud tilt of her head.

She remained at the witness stand while the defense counsel picked and probed at her testimony, trying without success, to find a hole or a flaw in the evidence she presented. When at last she was excused, she stepped down and returned to her seat with the captain and McCoy who had also been called as witnesses for the prosecution.

She watched with pride as the captain withstood grueling hours of testimony, never once flinching under the onslaught of memories evoked as he was prompted to recall the traumatic events which had taken place so many years prior and to describe for the judge, panel members and everyone else in the courtroom what life on the colony had been like before, during and after the massacre and how it was that he had been able to connect the acclaimed thespian with the man who had allegedly masterminded the deaths of thousands.

She felt his hand grope for hers as they awaited the conclusion of the tribunal. Twisting her hand, she pressed her palm to his, threading their fingers together and as the verdict of a life sentence at a maximum security penal settlement was read, she felt the shudder of relief that quaked through his rigid frame.

************

A week later, Uhura stood with Kirk rolling her eyes as he ran a finger around the tight collar of the dress grays he wore and complained about the lack of comfort offered by the stiff uniform.

“Stop fussing,” she ordered as she looked him over with a critical eye. “It makes you look distinguished. Like a real captain instead of a kid pretending to be one.”

He bared his teeth at her little dig and played along with her efforts to lighten the tension. Waggling his thick brows, he shot her a smirking smile.

“Yeah, but the gold shirt really makes my eyes pop, doncha’ think?”             

She heaved a long-suffering sigh and gave him a gentle swat on the back of the head.

“You’re going to do great,” she assured him, seeing past the cocky exterior to the nerves jumping beneath the surface. “This isn’t your first interview,” she reminded him.

“I know. But it’s the first one…” He broke off with a little grunt of frustration. “I thought I had buried that part of my life until he showed up onboard.” He stared at a distant point over her head.

“This is going to define who I am in people’s minds for the rest of my life,” he sighed.

She let out a soft laugh and shook her head.

“There’s so much more to you than this one thing.” And with a pointed glance, she reached out to straighten the various ribbons and medals fastened over the left breast of his uniform thinking that there were already so many more there than should be decorating the chest of a man of his young age.

Resting her fingertips against the commendation he had received for his actions during their encounter with the _Narada_ , she stretched up onto her toes and brushed her lips across the corner of his in a friendly good luck kiss.

“Get through this,” she told him, “and when you’re done you can change back into your civvies and I’ll take you out to dinner. I know a great burger and a beer place that you’ll love.”

Friendship – and the glimmer of perhaps something more – shone in her eyes, provoking the first genuine smile she had seen from him in over a month.

Their intense study of one another was broken by the sound of the producer calling his name and beckoning him to the set.

“You’ll wait here?”

“I’ll be right here,” she confirmed.

Standing in the wings, she positioned herself behind the shoulder of the host, directly in his line of sight.

One more ordeal for him to get through but he wouldn’t do it alone.

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m certainly not the first to think it would be interesting to play with the episode Conscience of a King in the JJ-verse. I wanted to keep some of the core facts but also tweak some others, the most important to me being how would things change with reboot-Kirk, i.e., a younger Kirk faced with this situation? Would he be more inclined to bring his crew into his confidence than TOS-Kirk? That was the root of the idea and this is what came of it.


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